


Pleasure & Pain

by WithGreatPowerComesGreatResponsibility



Series: The Wolf and the Hound Series [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Biting, Bruises, Character Death, Classic Ramsay but Better, Dom/sub, Elegant Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, This Could Be Romance?, Threesome - F/M/M, Torture, i own nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24313171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithGreatPowerComesGreatResponsibility/pseuds/WithGreatPowerComesGreatResponsibility
Summary: Sansa agrees to marry Ramsay and destroy the Bolton's from the inside out.Ramsay is eager to get his hands on the red wolf of the North, he wants to break her...then everything changes...
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton & Sansa Stark, Ramsay Bolton/Sansa Stark
Series: The Wolf and the Hound Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757728
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story follows the events from my other fic, The Wolf and the Hound, since that story is from Luna's perspective we didn't get to see how Ramsay and Sansa got together, so I wrote this!
> 
> I hope you like it!  
> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Feedback is always appreciated!

-1-  
There were several times after her older sister, Luna, fled King’s Landing with the Hound that Sansa has wished she had gone with them. Now, as she took in the proposition of a marriage to the newly legitimized Ramsay Bolton, she wished all over again that she was anywhere but here.  
Lord Baelish, who had rescued her from King’s Landing and who had taken care of her since then, had arranged this. He, of course was working some angle that would benefit him later, no doubt, Sansa thought as she rode on the back of a beautiful white horse.  
Sansa knew how Roose Bolton had betrayed Robb, leading to his death and her mother’s death… But she felt that she owed Baelish. He didn’t have to take her away from that place. He didn’t have to take her in after. But he did, and now she had to marry Ramsay.  
Baelish, who always seemed to know everything about everyone, knew nothing about the bastard of the Dreadfort, this made Sansa uneasy. Who knew what he was like? Especially considering who his father was.  
The plan was simple really, nothing Sansa couldn’t handle. Stannis and his army were currently at Castle Black, when he makes another move for the Iron Throne, they’ll come through Winterfell, take it back, and Stannis would make Sansa the Warden of the North. If Stannis doesn’t come this way, Sansa is to destroy the Bolton’s from within and avenge her family.  
Sansa’s breath catches as she rides through the large gate of Winterfell, she hadn’t been home in so long and now she was the only Stark in Winterfell. The people that were all lined up to greet her and Baelish were all strangers. 

Ramsay Bolton stood by his father, waiting. She rode in on a snow-white horse, dressed in all black. Her hair, known to be fire-red was also black. Ramsay watched as his father went over to greet her. He watched as her face seemed to be made of stone when she looked at him, but a moment later a smile crossed her mouth and she curtsied.  
“Let me introduce my son,” he said and then stepped out of the way. “Ramsay Bolton.”  
He stepped forward, a smile on his own face, but it was all for show.  
She was a few inches taller than him, he noted.  
“It’s an honor to meet you, my Lady,” he said as he carefully took her hand, brought it to his lips, and gently pressed a kiss there. Then his eyes flicked up to hers, he was having trouble reading them…this frustrated him, but there would be time to figure it out later…

Sansa stood in her family’s crypt, paying her respects. Baelish walked up to her, telling her Cersei had summoned him and he had to leave. Sansa didn’t like the idea of staying here alone but Baelish insisted and so she agreed.  
He pulled her close to him, his fingers brushing her hair and then down her jaw, before he was pressing his lips to hers.  
“I’ll be back for you,” he whispered and then he left her there.  
Sansa knew how Baelish felt about her. But she wasn’t sure how she felt about him. Her lips tingled from the kiss, but did that mean she liked it? She wasn’t attracted to Baelish…but what had attraction ever gotten her anyway?  
She looked at the statue of her father.  
“I wish you were here…I wish you could tell me what to do…”  
Her eyes lingered on the statue’s face; the face meant to be her father but so obviously wasn’t. Tears clouded her vision for a moment, but she pushed them back. A few deep breaths and then she left the crypt.

Ramsay stepped out from his hiding spot in the crypt, he had seen it all. He knew what was expected of him, he and Sansa would be married within a fortnight, and after that his father expected an heir, to secure their hold in the North. Ramsay stuck to the shadows, following Sansa, watching her. She knew all the best places to go, having grown up here. He followed her out to the Godswood and watched her as she sat by the huge weirwood tree. She really was beautiful…he thought as he took in her mannerisms and the soft subtle changes that crossed her face. He followed her around over the next few days, stalking his prey.  
*************

One morning he took a tray of food and drink to her door, he knocked, and the door opened. She was already dressed for the day, her dark hair hung in a long braid. He smiled at her.  
“Can I come in?” he asked smoothly.  
She eyed the food and then stood aside to let him in. He went into the room and placed the tray on the small table.  
“I thought you might like to talk, we will be married soon after all,” he said sitting down and looking over at her.  
She shut the door and sat across from him. “Thank you…Lord Bolton.”  
“Lord Bolton is my father,” Ramsay replied with a wave of his hand and then he poured wine in two glasses, sliding one over to her. She sipped her wine. “Who is Petyr Baelish to you?” he asked.  
“My uncle,” she replied. “He married my aunt Lysa…”  
“Where is she?”  
“She…she’s dead.”  
“My condolences,” he said before taking a sip.  
He watched as she picked at the food, taking note of what she did eat. He refilled her cup when it was running low, and he peppered her with questions, drinking in every emotion that crossed over her features.  
“You were married to the imp,” he stated.  
“Briefly,” she replied. “It wasn’t my idea.”  
“Did you two…?”  
“He never touched me.”  
“That’s good to know,” he replied, then his eyes flicked to hers, watching intently as he asked his next question. “Did you want him to touch you?”  
Her eyes found his instantly. “No,” she said holding his gaze.  
After a moment he looked away, sipping more wine. He would figure her out…but it would take time. A log snapped in the fire and embers burst forth. He stood and crossed the room, adding another log to the fire.  
“Did this used to be your room?” he asked.  
“It was,” she replied.  
“Good to be home?”  
“I thought it would be,” she said.  
He sat across from her once more, she was upset, now he was getting somewhere.  
“My Lady,” he said resting his hand lightly on top of hers. “Forgive me,” he said a moment later pulling his hand back. “Would it bring you comfort to know; Theon Greyjoy did not kill your brothers?”  
“What?” she asked, refocusing on him as tears escaped.  
“He admitted it to me…after a while. Your brothers are still out there somewhere.”  
The look in her eyes went from sadness to resolve. “Theon was here?”  
“He was.”  
“Where is he now?”  
“Back with his sister I imagine,” Ramsay replied with a shrug as he stood. “I must be going now, my Lady. I’ll leave that with you.”  
He left the room, spotting Myranda almost instantly. He walked past her and then she fell in behind him.  
“Were you spying on me?” Ramsay asked annoyed.  
“I was waiting for you,” she replied. “You have hardly paid any attention to me since that Stark whore got here.”  
Ramsay turned and pushed her into the wall. “You will not call her that.”  
Myranda’s eyes were wide. “What do you mean?”  
“I’m going to marry her, Myranda.”  
“Just because you marry her…that doesn’t mean we’ll never…”  
“It does, it does mean that,” he said backing away from her and walking down the hall.  
“What about everything you promised me?”  
“That was when I was a bastard. I’m a Lord now, I can’t marry the kennelmaster’s daughter,” he replied with a laugh. He looked over at her, tucking a finger under her chin and bringing her eyes up to meet his. “The plan has changed.”  
“So, what am I supposed to do now?”  
“It’s not my problem,” Ramsay replied and then he walked away.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Ramsay get to know each other. Sansa meets Myranda. The wedding and the wedding night.

-2-

The next day he returned to her room, he brought more food, focusing on what she liked and more wine of course.   
“Who are you Ramsay Bolton?” she asked on her third glass of wine. “Are you like your father?”  
He smiled, mostly to himself. As he was here trying to figure her out, she was doing the same with him.   
“My father…” he began but stopped. “I can only hope to be as great as he is.”  
“Do you really believe that?” she asked leaning forward in her chair.   
His eyes met hers, there was a challenge there.  
“Whatever do you mean my Lady?” he asked.  
“It seems a great man leads by the code of family, honor, and loyalty…all of which your father seems to be lacking.”  
He was enjoying this side of her, so open and fearless in her convictions. He finished his wine and poured himself more. Sansa placed her glass next to his, he smiled at her and refilled it.   
“All I ever wanted was to be acknowledged as my father’s trueborn son…” he said looking away. “I got the name but…it seems nothing I do ever pleases him. I’ll never be the son he wanted.” he said glancing over at her.  
“Why do you let him push you around?” she asked surprising him again.  
“He’s my lord father,” he replied simply.  
She reached across the small table, taking his hand and looking into his eyes.  
“You are your own person Ramsay Bolton; you’ve got to let him know that you don’t exist to further his agenda.” He looked at her with fascination. “Soon, you and I will marry, you will be Lord of Winterfell…what do you want? When are you going to step up, be a Bolton and take what you want?”  
He wrapped his fingers around hers, taking in every word that had dripped out of her beautiful mouth. She had some fire in her after all.   
***********************

Sansa let a young woman named Myranda into her chambers. She had been sent to help with her bath. Sansa undressed and stepped into the hot water. She relaxed into the tub and Myranda got to work on her hair. She talked as she went, telling her about all the other girls, and what happens when Ramsay gets bored.   
Eventually Sansa asks how long Myranda has been in love with him. She refuses to answer to which Sansa lets her know she’s a Stark and Winterfell is her home, she won’t allow anyone to intimidate her.   
Sansa dismissed the girl; she could manage on her own. Once the bath was over, she dried off and pulled on her wedding garments, she braided her hair, pulled on her gloves, and then she was ready.   
Much to her dismay, it was Roose Bolton that she had to walk with on that cold snowy night. There wasn’t anyone else to give her away. Torches lit the way through the Godswood and to the large weirwood tree. Many people gathered to watch the ceremony.

Many things were running through Ramsay’s head when he stood in front of the weirwood tree. But everything fell silent when Sansa came walking up to him. Her dress was layers of white, her hair, red once more, was braided around her head. She looked afraid and unsure; she especially didn’t seem to like the fact that his father was the one giving her away.   
Her eyes locked with his when she stopped in front of him. He smiled at her and the ceremony began.

He could feel Myranda staring daggers at him as he and his new bride walked off to his room. Sansa stood awkwardly in front of him, her hands shaking as she went to begin the process of undressing herself. He caught her hands, rubbing them gently.   
“I’ll go first, my Lady,” he said dropping his cloak to the floor. “You can look all you want,” he said as he began pulling off his layers.   
She stared at his exposed chest, pale skin over tight muscles, she spied a trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath his breeches. He watched her eyes taking him in, he walked closer to her, taking her hand and running it over his chest.  
“And you can touch whatever you want,” he said looking up at her as he undid his pants and then a moment later dropped those as well.   
She took in his nakedness and before too long she began again, her hands still shook but not as much. She took off her layers, she took down her hair, and then she took off her undergarments.   
“Not a lady at all…” he said, and she looked at him. “A Queen.”  
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as he took a step forward and she took a step back.  
“You have nothing to fear from me, my Queen,” he said with his hands up.  
She stepped back to where she had been. “I’m not a Queen,” she whispered.  
“You are to me,” he replied.   
She stepped closer, unsure of what to do. He placed her hands on his chest. She caressed the smooth skin there. She moved her hands up to his neck and then into his hair. She kissed him, and when he slid his tongue into her mouth, she pulled him closer.   
He touched her cheek, slid his fingers down her long neck, over to her shoulder, and down her arm. He took another step towards her and gently pressed a kiss to her lips. He then kissed her throat, her collarbone, across her chest…  
His hands grazed her breasts, and then settled on her hips.   
“We can go as slow as you want,” he said against her skin, gooseflesh popping up.  
She brought his face up to hers, she pressed a kiss against his lips. “I’m ready,” she said though her voice was shaky.   
“Lay back my Queen,” he said.  
She slowly sat on the bed and then she laid down. He moved on top of her, kissing, caressing, nipping, testing to see what she responded to.   
She parted her legs and he pressed himself to her opening, their eyes locked. He leaned down and kissed below her ear. “Just let go, my Queen…” he whispered.  
When he leaned back to look at her face again, he could see it, hunger lingered in her eyes. He pushed himself inside, slowly.   
Her cries were quiet, he had to really control himself not to do what he wanted to do.   
He kissed her lips, trailed kisses down her neck, he flicked his tongue across one of her nipples. A moan escaped her lips and that was it, Ramsay picked up the pace.  
Sansa’s cries grew louder, she moaned Ramsay’s name, she spread her legs wider so he could get closer to her.   
Something was happening inside her body, a sensation she had never felt before was building. Ramsay used his fingers now, in her sensitive place, rubbing against something there, something she had never explored before.   
Ramsay’s body shook as he released inside of her, her breathing increased and she erupted in a frenzy of moans and breathy cries.   
He noticed then, the tears that were running down her face. “Are you all right, my Queen,” he asked by her ear.  
Her breathing was returning to normal and she looked at him, her lips meeting his and then she bit down on his lip.  
“Again,” she whispered.  
He smiled and obliged his new bride’s request.  
*******************


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay and Sansa have found some sort of strange happiness with each other. There are still a few people who stand in their way but it's nothing they can't deal with...together.

-3-

Ramsay gave Sansa a light kiss before leaving their room that morning. He found a servant and sent in a request for her food to be sent to their room and a bath to be prepared for her once she wakes up.   
He went straight for the kennels to take care of his hounds. Myranda was there.  
“How was she?” she asked not looking at him.  
Ramsay whistled. “She has exceeded my expectations.”  
“What does that mean?” she snapped.  
“Just what I said,” he replied.  
He fed each hound, petted them, and then replaced the locks on the kennels.   
“Should we go hunting soon?” she asked trying to get things back to normal.   
“I’ll be busy for the next several days,” he replied not looking at her. “My new bride has quite the sexual appetite,” he said with a smile and then he walked away.

When he returned to their room, Sansa was just finishing her food. The servant bowed her head and then left the room quickly.   
She looked stunning, perched in the chair, her long red hair loose and hanging midway down her back, wearing nothing but a robe. The light streaming through the windows made her look ethereal, a great red direwolf…such a prize…and she was all his.   
“How are you today, my Lady?” he asked walking over and moving the robe so he could kiss her shoulder.  
“Better than I was expecting,” she replied.  
He kissed her again and then he gently bit the soft skin there. Her hand slid up the side of his face as she pressed him into her. He took that as encouragement and bit down harder, when he pulled away, she grabbed his shirt and brought him closer. She brushed her lips over his.  
“Excellent,” he said holding out his hand to her. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. “How was the food?”  
“Satisfactory,” she said.  
“You’ll have to tell me your favorite foods so I can make sure we always have them for you.”  
“You’re too kind,” she replied.  
He smiled and then undid her robe, letting it fall to the floor.  
“I thought you might like a bath,” he said pulling her over to where the tub waited.  
“I would, thank you.”  
He pulled her into him, swaying this way and that as he ran his hands over her.  
“You’re very beautiful, Sansa. I don’t ever want you to forget that.”  
She looked embarrassed when he pulled away from her, he helped her into the tub. She sat and leaned back, relaxing in the steaming water.   
He sat by the tub, soaping up a bit of cloth and then he began to scrub his bride.  
“I can do that…” she said.  
“Let me,” he replied.  
She looked at him for a moment and then brough his face to hers, she kissed him before settling in once more.   
When the bath was over and her hair had been washed, another thing he had insisted on doing, he helped her from the tub.  
He handed her the robe and she wrapped it around herself.   
“Are you leaving?” she asked reaching out to grab his hand.  
“Not for long. You may go wherever you wish, you are my wife, not my prisoner. I have to deal with Stannis Baratheon and his army.”  
“Are they in the North?”  
“Yes,” he replied.   
“Are they coming here?” she asked, fear clouding her voice.  
“I won’t let him hurt you, my Lady,” he said quickly. “We’ll take them out before they get this far.”  
Her eyes didn’t leave his. “You’ll be okay?”  
Something stirred inside Ramsay, something he only vaguely remembered, she was concerned for him. He pulled her into him.  
“You have nothing to fear, my Lady. I shall return this evening.” She nodded but he could see there were words left unsaid. “Tell me.”  
“If you die,” she whispered. “You’ll leave me here with your father…”  
“Those Baratheon bastards are nothing my men and I can’t handle.”  
She nodded again and leaned in to kiss him, her fingers clutching his shirt.  
“I shall see you this evening, my Queen.”  
**************

Sansa needed time to herself. She needed to sort everything out. She had no idea what being married was going to be like or that she would actually enjoy her wedding night as much as she had. She definitely felt different when Ramsay kissed her, it was a feeling of want, of choosing, of deciding all on her own.   
On her way back to the room she now shared with Ramsay, she ran into Myranda.  
“Hello Sansa,” she said her voice dripping with sweetness. “Good to see you today.”  
“Hi,” Sansa replied curtly as she tried to walk around her.  
But Myranda was quicker. “Has Ramsay introduced you to his hounds yet?”  
“No, he hasn’t,” she replied.  
Myranda took Sansa’s hand. “Well you must come see them!”  
She half drug Sansa to the kennels, where she unlocked the main door and walked inside. Sansa was apprehensive but followed anyway.  
“There is nothing and no one Ramsay loves more than his hounds,” Myranda said with a smile.   
She turned to one kennel and then turned back, in a flash, she struck Sansa in the face with something…  
Sansa cried out and fell onto the floor. Myranda walked over to her, another smile on her face.  
“He’ll never love you,” she spat, the same smile still lingering.  
She hit Sansa again and again until the world around her went black.

Ramsay and his men returned to Winterfell that evening, Stannis and his army was all but a memory now. He went straight to his chambers, but she wasn’t there.   
“Where is Sansa?” he demanded. “I want everyone looking for her!”  
What had happened while he was gone?   
“My Lord, we’ve found her…”  
Ramsay was led to the kennels, Sansa was shut up in one, she wouldn’t meet his eyes, as he took in the dried blood on her face and the bruise around her eye. He held out his hand for her, she took it, and then he wrapped her gently in his arms and took her to their room.  
“Tell me what happened,” he said as he sat her by the fire.  
“Nothing happened…I got locked in…I’m a…stupid girl…” she said tripping over her words as her eyes clouded with tears.  
“Sansa,” he said knowing she was lying. “You can tell me anything.”  
Her eyes met his, a chill ran through his body, an interesting reaction, he thought to himself.   
“Myranda…”   
She wouldn’t say anything else.   
“I will take care of it,” he said as he cleaned the blood from her face and then he kissed her forehead before leaving the room.  
Anger rose in him as he set out to find Myranda.  
“Bring my Lady some food and wine,” he barked to a passing servant, she bowed her head and walked away.  
“See to my Lady’s cuts,” he said to a passing Maester.  
He bowed his head and then Ramsay was walking past him, past everyone, and down into the dungeons. That was where she was, a smile on her face, she was pleased with herself.   
He walked right up to her, she tried to kiss him, but he pushed her away.  
“It’s only a matter of time,” she said with a smile. “You’ll grow bored of her…”  
“You locked her in the kennel, why?” he demanded.  
“She was being mean to me…”  
“She is my Lady.”  
“And what am I?” she asked.  
“What you’ve always been…the kennelmaster’s daughter.”  
“It’s always been us,” she spat.  
“That was when I was a bastard. Now I have responsibilities. Now I have power.”  
“You think you can love her?” she asked. “You can’t love anyone…you know what you are. You’ll hurt her eventually, and when you do, she’ll hate you.”  
“You will not touch her again,” he said as he turned to go.  
“If you leave her alone again…I could slip in and do whatever I wanted…”  
What had happened to him in the last few days? It was a feeling he couldn’t place. He felt it the first time when he had seen hunger in Sansa’s eyes. There were so many things he wanted to teach her…  
Myranda screamed and cried, she fought back but she couldn’t overpower him as he tied her to the large X in the middle of the room.   
“She’ll never love you! Only I could ever love you! We belong together! You need a bad girl, not some highborn cunt!”  
“Scream all you want darling,” Ramsay said as he slid a finger down the side of her face. “No one is coming to save you.”  
“Ramsay no! Ramsay, I’m sorry! Don’t leave me down here!”  
She continued to beg as he left the room. He returned to his chambers. Sansa sat on the bed; her arms wrapped around herself. He sat in front of her.  
“I have taken care of it, my Lady. Myranda will never harm you again…”  
“Where is she?”   
“In the dungeon,” he answered hesitantly.  
“Is she dead?”  
“Not yet.”  
Sansa nodded. “Good, let’s go take care of that.”  
Ramsay regarded her as she crossed the room and pulled on her boots. Her hand on the door handle and a look back was all it took and then he was walking with her, back to the dungeon.

Myranda had a lot of nasty things to say when they arrived. Ramsay had to gag her.  
“Show me what you would do,” Sansa said.  
Ramsay brought his tools over. “You want me to flay her?”  
“I want you to finish what you started; I’m just going to watch.”  
Ramsay felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and then he turned to Myranda, getting to work.   
He turned back to Sansa several times, checking to see if it was too much for her, checking to see if she wanted to leave.   
When he was finished and Myranda was dead, Sansa came to his side. Taking the bloody tool from him and crashing her lips on his.  
“What was she talking about?” she asked panting when the kiss ended.   
“She was just…”  
“Look at me,” she said, and he did as he was told, his eyes locking on hers. “What did she mean?”  
He sighed and held out his hand. “Come with me, my Lady.”  
She took his hand and he led them to a different part of the dungeon. This part was cleaner, there were several strange objects hanging on the walls, a bed sat in the middle of the room.  
“There are many things in this world that I enjoy,” he said. “Torturing people, flaying them…and I really enjoy…adding pain to sexual pleasure.” He saw fear in her eyes. “You are not ready for this yet, my Lady.”  
“Show me something,” she said unexpectedly.  
He smiled. “Take off your clothes.”

He didn’t use anything in the room, he took time and care to pleasure her before he entered her. He began just nibbling here and there before he started to add pressure. She moaned into each bite that pierced her skin. When he was done, he took in the sight of her, the bites already starting to bruise.   
“I will never hurt you, my Queen. Not unless you ask me too.”  
*****************


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roose is a problem that neither Sansa nor Ramsay want around. They make plans for the future.

~4~

Ramsay looked away as his father tore into him, telling him how awful he was. That he was a disappointment. That he hoped his next child was a son, someone that wouldn’t bring shame to the Bolton name.   
Roose walked out of the room and then Sansa emerged from her hiding spot. Ramsay looked at her, surprised she was there. She went to him and he held his arms out to her. That look of concern crossing her face once more. He held onto her fiercely.  
“We could kill him,” Sansa said quietly.  
Ramsay’s eyes found hers and she was serious.  
“You would be Warden of the North; we could rule together. I’m a Stark, people will follow me, we’ll have support.”  
She’s thought a lot about this, he mused as he looked at her eyes, so full of hope.  
“Is this what you bid?” he asked. “Will it please you, my Queen, for me to avenge your mother and brother?”  
She didn’t respond immediately as he thought she might. He could see the conflict going on in her eyes. “It would,” she said and then she hesitated.  
“I always know when you have more to say, might as well just say it,” he said lightly touching his fingers to her bottom lip.  
“Kill him…” she said, and her eyes locked onto his as she moved closer to his face. “And then fuck me on his grave.”  
He smiled as she leaned in and kissed him, he pulled her closer, shoving his tongue into her mouth.  
“Consider it done,” he replied.  
******************

Roose was a fighter, but Ramsay knew that already and he took great pleasure in flaying him.  
“How far do you think you’ll get without me?” Roose asked. “You won’t survive without me, boy!”  
“Oh father,” Ramsay said with a grin. “I think it was you who needed me all this time.”  
“The North won’t follow you, son. You know that. You’re not a Stark.”  
“No, but my wife is. Thank you for that father, you couldn’t have made a more perfect match.”  
“She’s playing you, boy! And you’re too foolish to see it!”  
Sansa walked in and she went right up to Ramsay, kissing him deeply before turning to Roose, gently taking the flaying knife that Ramsay had.  
“I pledge myself to you, my Queen,” Ramsay said with a bow of his head. “From this day until my last day, I will fight for you. I will help you bring Winterfell back to its former glory; I will help find your family, and I will avenge those you’ve lost.”  
“You’re useless!” Roose yelled.  
“At least he has honor,” Sansa said moving closer with the knife.   
“You have no idea who he is,” Roose said looking Sansa in the eye.  
Sansa smiled and then she peeled off a layer of his skin, not even bothered by his screams.   
“I know he’s not you.”  
“He’ll never be me,” Roose huffed.  
“And we can thank the Gods for that.”  
“Here my Lady,” Ramsay said enclosing his hand over hers. “Let me help you, with this piece you have to turn the blade like this,” he said showing her. “So, you get all the skin all at once, you see?”  
“I see,” she replied, trying again on her own. She smiled at him when she did it successfully.  
“That’s right,” Ramsay cooed. “Just like that…”

Later that day they were told there had been complications and neither Walda nor her son had survived. Ramsay and Sansa were lying next to each other in their bed, naked, and covered with the furs.  
“Joffrey used to tell me how stupid I was…” she said lightly trailing her fingers over Ramsay’s chest.  
“You know it’s not true,” Ramsay said running his thumb lightly over some of his bites on her skin.   
“Neither is what your father said to you.”  
He took her hand in his, brought each finger to his lips and lightly kissed each one. “My father…” he said and then stopped.  
She propped herself up and looked at him. “Your father was an awful man,” she said. “You are not awful.”  
She had no idea…but she looked at him like no one else had before. He found himself wanting to be worthy of those looks.  
“What should we do now my Lady?”  
“Reunite the North, I suppose,” she replied as she laid back down next to him. “What if they don’t want to follow me?”  
“You said it yourself, you’re a Stark, they would prefer a Stark ruler, even a girl.”  
“Or…a Queen,” she replied with a smile. “They declared Robb, King in the North, if I’m all that’s left…”  
“Queen in the North,” he said with a smile. “It has a nice ring to it.”  
“What about you? If I declare myself Queen, then doesn’t that make you King?”  
“You take Queen in the North; I’ll just be the Lord of Winterfell.”  
“Why? I thought all you wanted was power,” she said with a curious smile.  
“I do want power, and if it means I need to lie low while my wife gets the North to follow her and trust me, so be it. I can wait.”  
She smiled as their eyes met and then her hand was sliding down his stomach, under the furs, further down…  
“Again?”  
“Please?” she asked with a pout he couldn’t refuse.   
*****************


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uniting the North. Brienne and Podrick show up. Sansa gets some news about her sisters. Baelish returns.

~5~

They sent Ravens to Castle Black, letting Jon know they were reuniting the North, and to the other Houses, calling for the families to pledge themselves to Sansa, the Queen in the North.  
“This is just embarrassing,” she said as they rolled up the scrolls. “The Queen in the North? No one is going to take me seriously…”  
“And no one ever will, until you take yourself seriously,” Ramsay replied with a knowing tone. 

Over the next several days Ravens arrived with the news that families were arriving soon in Winterfell or that they rejected the offer.   
Lyanna Mormont of Bear Island, a girl of ten, arrived first, with several riders. She accepted the terms and then delivered over to them the precious cargo she had brought.   
Sansa fell to her knees and hugged Rickon, she hadn’t seen him in so long. She thought he was dead. But here he was, with Shaggy Dog and a Wildling named Osha who had been taking care of him.   
They were set up with rooms and a whole staff to see to their needs as Sansa and Ramsay packed up to go visit each house individually.   
Most of the houses were unhappy with Ramsay being there at all, none of them trusting the Bolton’s. But Sansa was able to get more than half of the houses to pledge to her.  
Upon returning to Winterfell the pair had guests waiting for them. An impossibly tall woman with short blonde hair, dressed in black armor and a much shorter man trailing behind her. Sansa knew this man, Podrick Payne, he used to squire for Tyrion Lannister.  
She was Brienne of Tarth; she had made an oath to her mother to keep the Stark girls safe. She placed her sword on the ground in front of her and then she went down on one knee.  
“Lady Sansa,” Brienne began. “I offer my services. I will shield your back and keep your council and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the old Gods and the new.”  
Sansa looked over at Ramsay, he nodded, and then she turned to Brienne.  
“And I vow, that you shall always have a place by my…hearth, and…”  
“Meat and mead at my table,” Podrick said quietly.  
“Meat and mead at my table,” Sansa repeated. “And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor. I swear it by the old Gods and the new. Arise.”  
Brienne grabbed her sword and stood, smiling at Sansa.  
Brienne and Podrick were invited inside, the four of them sat around a table with food and drink discussing all that has happened.  
“You saw Arya and Luna?” Sansa asked taking Ramsay’s hand under the table.  
“I did. I tried to get them to come with me…but…”  
“Were they alone?” Sansa asked missing her sisters terribly.  
“They were traveling with…the Hound.”  
Sansa smiled through the tears that had gathered in her eyes. “The Hound is a good man, I’m sure they will be safe with him.” Brienne’s face was pained. “Go on,” Sansa urged.  
“I thought they were not safe with him and I fought him. I knocked him off a cliff, Arya ran off and Luna…she refused to leave him. We spent three days looking for Arya…and I ended up losing them both. I’m so sorry, Lady Sansa…”  
“It’s all right,” Sansa replied. “How did they look?”  
“They both looked good. Arya wasn’t exactly dressed like a lady and they both carried swords…”  
Sansa smiled again, thinking of her sisters, they had always been so unique, so adventurous. “My sisters will be fine, I’m sure of it.”

Sansa and Ramsay spent the next several weeks continuing to unite the North and preparing for Winter.   
They were in their room one morning when a knock came at their door.  
“Forgive me, my Queen, my Lord,” the Maester said on the other side of the door.   
Ramsay sighed as he stood and strode over to the door completely naked. The Maester averted his eyes.  
“Well?” Ramsay asked.  
“Lord Baelish has arrived.”  
“That will be all, thank you,” Sansa said from the bed.  
Ramsay closed the door, his eyes locking with hers. “What do you suppose he’s doing here?”  
“He said he was coming back for me…”  
“You’re mine,” he said sitting on the bed once he had pulled his breeches on.   
“Yes,” she said sitting up and touching his chest, leaning in and brushing his lips with her own. “I’m yours, my love.”  
He nodded but he was still unhappy. “Better get dressed and see to our guest then,” he said standing and holding a hand out for his Queen.

Sansa and Ramsay stood outside as the gate was opened and Baelish rode through on a dark horse, accompanied by Knights of the Vale.  
“Lord Baelish,” Ramsay said with his arms wide. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”   
Baelish dismounted and walked up to them. “I have just come to check up on my niece as I said I would,” he said nodding towards Sansa. “Hello Lady Sansa, you are looking well.”  
“Actually,” Ramsay said walking over to his bride, snaking an arm around her and placing a hand boldly on her hip. “She is, Sansa Bolton, Queen of the North, Lady of Winterfell.”  
He looked surprised for a moment but recovered and then he bowed. “My Queen,” he said sweetly. “My how far you’ve come…if possible, I wonder…could I have a moment alone?”  
Ramsay went to speak but Sansa laid her hand on his chest. “Of course, Lord Baelish.” She turned to Ramsay, bringing him close, kissing him deeply. She grabbed onto his collar as she plunged her tongue into his mouth. He threaded his hands into her hair. Baelish cleared his throat.  
“Don’t follow too close, my love, or he’ll see you,” she whispered close to his ear.  
He smiled wickedly as she pulled away from him.  
“Come Lord Baelish,” Sansa said leading the way.  
They walked casually to the Godswood.  
“I thought you needed rescuing,” he said once he thought they were alone.  
“I don’t as it turns out.”  
“Have you forgotten the plan?” he asked eyeing her.  
“Of course not, but Roose Bolton is dead and I am Queen in the North, I’m not going to do much better than that.”  
“How about Queen of the Seven Kingdoms?”  
Her eyes met his, the look she saw there told her he was being serious. “I have this version Sansa,” he said stopping suddenly and turning to her. “I see myself on the Iron Throne with you by my side…” He said moving closer to her, pressing himself up against her. He took her face gently in his hands. “I’ve always loved you, Sansa. We could rule the world together.”  
She pulled away much to his surprise. “That’s not what I want.”  
A look she couldn’t read passed over his features. “I left you here too long,” he said looking away.  
“I don’t want the Seven Kingdoms; I only want the North. I have it now, I am their Queen. If you want the Iron Throne, go on and get it. Play their game, see how long you last.”  
“Is there no convincing you, my Lady?”  
“I’m not your Lady and I never will be. Thank you for coming all this way, Lord Baelish, but as you can see, I am just fine. You should be getting back to the Vale, what will poor Robyn do without you?” she asked and then she turned on her heel, her long dark cloak swirling around her as she went.  
She made it back to the courtyard to where Brienne and Podrick stood nearby. She took her place between them and they watched as Baelish returned moments after she did, climb up on his horse, and leave Winterfell.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon Snow arrives with a small group of people and a warning of what's to come. Ramsay is unhappy with all the people currently living at Winterfell. Ramsay and Sansa have some time alone and then things get interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features a threesome with a random character that won't make another appearance. So, if married couples exploring sex with other people isn't your thing, you can just skip the end. 
> 
> Happy reading!

~6~

A fortnight had passed since Baelish’s impromptu visit and they had heard nothing from him since. This morning the gate of Winterfell was opened to reveal Jon and several others with him.  
Sansa ran forward and embraced her half-brother, much to his surprise.   
“I’ve missed you,” she said pulling back and looking into his eyes.  
“I’ve missed you, too,” he replied.  
Introductions were made, the people traveling with Jon were Ser Davos Seaworth, Shireen Baratheon, Tormund Giantsbane, Melisandre, the Red Woman, and several Wildlings.  
Jon turned his attention to Ramsay. “You killed Stannis.”  
“Actually, I killed Stannis,” Brienne replied, her hand resting on her sword.   
Ramsay smiled, a crooked smile. “I just took out his army.”  
“You killed Stannis?” Sansa asked looking over.  
“I used to be part of Renly Baratheon’s Kingsguard. Renly was killed by a shadow with Stannis’s face…it was my duty to avenge my King.” She turned her attention to Shireen. “I’m…sorry my Lady.”  
She looked into Brienne’s eyes. “Don’t be.”

They were invited in for food and warmth. Jon dropped to his knees at the sight of his youngest brother and then they embraced.  
“I can’t believe you’re alive,” Jon said against his shoulder.  
“I wouldn’t be if not for Osha,” Rickon replied.  
Jon stood and locked eyes with Osha for the first time, he extended his hand to her. “You have my eternal gratitude,” he said. She smiled slightly and took his hand. “If I had anything to my name, I would give all of it to you.”  
“Thank you, my Lord…”  
“Please, lets sit,” Sansa said as food and ale were brought into the great hall.   
They all sat at a long table; the man named Tormund had his eyes glued to Brienne who didn’t seem to know what to do about it.   
“Why have you come to Winterfell?” Ramsay asked.  
“That is a long story,” Jon replied. “Something is coming…”  
“Winter?” Sansa asked.  
“Yes, but something else.”  
“Something like what?” Brienne asked.  
“The dead,” Jon replied.  
“The dead?” Podrick asked incredulous.  
“The White Walkers have an army of the dead and they are heading this way,” Jon said quietly.   
“White Walkers?” Sansa asked with a laugh.   
“I’m serious,” Jon replied, his voice even. “We’ve seen them, they’re out there. We need to rally together as many people as we can to defeat the Army of the Dead.”  
Sansa shared a look with Ramsay and then with Brienne.  
“Sansa and I have secured most of the North,” Ramsay said. “They will come if called.”  
“It won’t be enough,” Jon said. “We need more.”  
“We can try the Knights of the Vale,” Sansa suggested. “And our Uncle, the Blackfish still has his army.”  
“It’s a start,” Jon said. “But this concerns all of us, all the living.”  
“Who is going to help us?” Sansa asked.  
“I don’t know,” he said. “But we’ve got to try.”  
“What is you plan so far?”   
“I guess from here we head south, try to get as many as we can. My friend and fellow brother, Samwell Tarly has gone to Oldstown to see what he can learn about how to deal with this Army of the Dead.”  
“Maybe you should wait to hear from him?” Sansa suggested.  
“It could be a good idea,” Davos said. “Spend some time regrouping, planning our next move.”  
“I will give it three days,” Jon said and then he finished his drink.   
“In the meantime,” Davos began. “Would it be okay if Shireen stayed here?”  
“Of course,” Sansa replied with a smile. “She will be safe with us.”  
***********

“I don’t like all of these people in our home,” Ramsay said as he clutched the whip.  
“It’s not forever…my Lord.”  
He smiled and released the whip, it cracked over Sansa’s naked body. She tensed and pulled against her restraints.   
“I haven’t flayed anyone is quite some time…”  
“I’m sure we can find someone for you…my Lord.”  
He struck her again, harder this time, maybe too hard he noticed as skin on her back split open. He went to the door, opened it and gave the man there instructions, then he returned to Sansa. He pulled off his clothes, cracking the whip against her snow-white ass. She hissed, pulling against the restraints. He moved closer, settling against her opening from behind. Before he could slip inside there was a knock. He went over and opened the door with a flourish. The man on the other side, Zane Thorne, averted his eyes but when he did that, he saw the Queen in the North laid over a table, her wrists bound, her ankles bound to different table legs. She was completely naked, her red hair cascading down, down, his eyes followed catching pale pink nipples, drops of blood, and angry red marks along her backside. He held out the bowl of snow Ramsay had asked for.  
“See something you like, Zane?”  
“Um…no, my Lord…nothing.” His eyes sliding back to the Queen’s dripping cunt. He ran his tongue over his lips.  
Ramsay shut the door suddenly blocking his path. “How about him?” he asked.  
Sansa looked over, Zane had been with them for some time, coming from the Dreadfort with Ramsay before living here in Winterfell.   
“I suppose…”  
“Go on,” Ramsay said eagerly. “You’ll never taste anything sweeter.”  
Zane hesitated, he wasn’t serious, was he? But Ramsay turned away and took the snow from the bowl. He placed it on a spot on her back.  
“Zane, hurry up. I need her distracted,” Ramsay said.  
He walked over and knelt behind his Queen. This was forbidden, a trick, he knew he would get in trouble he thought as he got closer. His tongue lapped at her sweet nectar. She moaned as his tongue explored her most sensitive area. He never thought he would be here, tongue fucking Eddard Stark’s daughter. The thought excited him, he moved closer, using his nose to wiggle around those beautiful pink parts. He slid his tongue up, used his hands to part her cheeks, and slip his tongue into her ass. She cried out but it seemed muffled somehow. He didn’t think anything of it, knowing he would never have this opportunity again. He grabbed handfuls of ass, as he plunged his tongue further inside. She bucked against his face as much as she could being in the position, she was in.  
Ramsay enjoyed seeing her with others, he also enjoyed the way his cock felt plunged into her throat, he set a rough pace, she coughed and chocked, and still he didn’t stop until it was time and then he released deep in her throat, pulling out slowly. Watching it run down her chin and onto the table. He smirked.  
“Okay Zane, you’re turn.”  
Zane was happy where he was, her scent was intoxicating, she was so innocent or so he thought, he could spend the rest of his days with his tongue slipping into her slick wet folds.   
Ramsay sighed, growing impatient.   
“Zane, your Queen commands you to come up here,” Sansa said, her voice breathy as pleasure shook her body.  
The lovely sensations she was receiving stopped as he stood and walked around to where Ramsay had been.  
“Go on,” he purred leaning over Sansa from the back to get a better view.  
Zane looked down at the Queen, her eyes serious as she licked her lips. He dropped his breeches and placed himself in front of her lips. She opened her mouth and he pushed inside, his eyes rolling back in his head. Her tongue enveloped him, sucking, licking.   
Ramsay entered her from behind, she moaned, causing Zane to moan as well, he wasn’t going to be able to take much more. Ramsay’s hands snaked around her throat as he counted his relentless pace. Zane looked down; the Queen had tears in her eyes. He slid out, unsure of what to do. She leaned closer, her tongue sliding out, and she licked him, her eyes meeting his. He let go, releasing all over her face. Ramsay leaned over her, talking quietly against her ear.  
“How was he my Queen?”  
“Not as good as you my Lord.”  
He laughed and leaned to the side, sinking his teeth into her ribs as he released as well. Sansa pleaded with him to keep going, her body shaking.  
Ramsay took off her restraints and cradled her against him. A bath was waiting for her when they walked out of the room that was hidden within their new bedroom. Sansa had the idea of moving their bedroom and dungeon here while family stayed with them.  
“You relax my Queen.”  
“You have fun,” she said bringing him down and kissing him roughly.  
“Oh, I will,” he said returning to their dungeon to get Zane.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa sends Brienne and Podrick to recruit the Blackfish and his army, as well as the Knights of the Vale. An assassin makes it into the walls of Winterfell, their mission is unsuccessful which is most unfortunate for them, once Ramsay and Sansa have them in the dungeon. Sansa tells Ramsay how she feels.

~7~

“I should be here, by your side, Lady Sansa,” Brienne protested.  
“I can’t leave the North,” Sansa replied. “I need you to go to the Blackfish and bring him and his army back with you.”  
“What about the Knights of the Vale?” Podrick asked. “Should we get them as well?”  
“Jon did say we would need everyone,” Sansa said thinking it over. “I suppose so.”  
Podrick nodded as he looked to Brienne who sighed. “Very well. We will go get them and bring them back here.”  
“Thank you, Brienne. Please be careful.”

Things at Winterfell fell into routine, preparing for winter, a new round of Ravens was sent out asking for people to fight the coming army. Most of these letters went unanswered.  
Rickon and Osha seemed to keep to themselves, Shireen joined them occasionally though. Once she learned Osha didn’t know how to read and Rickon had been lacking in his teachings being in hiding for several years, she got right to work.  
Jon, Tormund, Ygritte, and Davos went to every house in the North, attempting to convince them of the coming army and to come to Winterfell for the fight.  
One evening Sansa had just finished her bath, she dried off and dressed in her warm leathers and furs. She sat by the fire drying her hair and then braiding it quickly. Then she left their bedroom and headed for the kitchen. Sometimes it was nice to get your own food instead of waiting for another to do it for you. On the way she saw a man dressed all in black slinking around a corner. He drew a dagger and then flung himself threw a doorway. She heard a struggle and hurried down the hall to see. A man emerged covered in blood. Sansa screamed as he grabbed her.  
“Sansa, it’s me,” Ramsay soothed as he brushed her hair with his fingers.  
“That man…”  
“He seems to have been after me,” Ramsay replied with a wicked smile.  
She took in the blood once more, searching his body for wounds. “Did he get you, my love?”  
“No darling, I’m quite alright,” he said lightly touching the end of her nose. “You two,” he said to a couple of guards who just ran over. “Take him to the dungeon. Tie him up and I’ll be down shortly.”  
“’Yes, my Lord,” they said in unison moving past him and into the next room.  
Ramsay turned back to Sansa. “Where were you going, my Queen?”  
“To get some food.”  
He smiled, a crooked smile at her, touching her cheek. “Go on then. I’ll see you later.”  
“No,” she replied grabbing his collar, pulling him close to her. “He tried to kill you.”  
“I know, my Queen.”  
“I will be there to hear why, and who is responsible and then…” she said inching closer.  
“And then,” he urged, his breath ghosting across her lips.  
“We’ll kill them,” she replied, taking his bottom lip between her teeth, biting mercilessly.  
He groaned, very nearly melting into her. She released his lip and his hands were on her face and neck, pulling her back. His lips crashing against hers, her lips slipping open, his tongue slithering inside.  
When he pulled back her eyes were dancing, he felt something inside himself stir.  
“Let’s go, my Lady,” he said holding his hand out. She wrapped her fingers around his, squeezing slightly, and they took off together for the dungeon. “Bring a plate of food to the dungeon for my Lady,” Ramsay said to a passing servant. She bowed her head and scurried off. Sansa looked at him. “I don’t want you to be hungry while I’m working.”  
She laughed. “You think you’ll be the only one working up an appetite this evening, Ramsay Bolton?”  
He raised his eyebrows, a wicked smile creeping over his face once more. “What did you have in mind, my Queen?”  
They walked into the dungeon and into the cell where the man was, tied up and waiting.  
“Question him, my love. When he doesn’t talk, I’ll tell you which knife I’d like to use,” Sansa said looking the man over. Ramsay chuckled as she leaned in, pressing her lips to his neck and then she walked over to a chair and sat.  
Ramsay looked over at the man. “What is your name?” He did not respond. “Who hired you?” Nothing.  
Ramsay walked over to Sansa, their eyes meeting, and then he directed his attention to an assortment of tools on a table.  
The door to the cell opened and in walked the servant. She placed the food on the table in front of Sansa, bowed her head, and left.  
Ramsay took a long piece of skin, the man cried out, he begged for him to stop.  
“All you have to do is answer my questions…” Ramsay replied. “What is your name?”  
A few more pieces of skin were peeled off. “I’m no one!” he yelled. “No one you know.”  
“Who hired you?” Ramsay asked.  
Sansa stood, a lemon cake in hand. She wrapped an arm around Ramsay and brought the cake up to his mouth.  
“Thank you, my Queen,” he said taking the food from her fingers with his mouth.  
She took the knife from him and sat it on the table. She ran her fingers over the other tools, and then selected one. Ramsay put a hand on her hip, the other snaking around her, his head on her shoulder. “That’s an excellent choice.”  
“Show me?” she asked, meeting his gaze.  
He leaned in, capturing her lips with his own.  
“Of course.”  
He instructed her and then sat down, watching as she did it on her own.  
“Tell me who hired you!” Sansa yelled after a while, fed up with his silence.  
Ramsay stood, unsheathed his dagger and stabbed the man in his torso. Blood bubbled up his throat and out of his mouth. “This is only going to get worse,” he said.  
Sansa went for another piece of skin. “Wait! I’ll tell you! I was hired by Petyr Baelish…”  
“What does he want?” she asked mid-cut.  
“He wants you,” he replied. “He is displeased that Lord Bolton has stolen you away…”  
Sansa turned to Ramsay who went right to her.  
“Baelish…he’s not going to stop,” she said shaking her head.  
“Let me go!” The man yelled. “Please, let me go!”  
“Where is Lord Baelish now?” Ramsay asked.  
“He’s waiting for me at an inn,” the man sputtered. “I…I can take you there…”  
Ramsay grabbed another knife; it was sharper and thicker. He held up the man’s pinky finger. “Tell me which inn, now.”  
The man begged and pleaded; in the end he gave up the location.  
Ramsay and Sansa left the dungeon.  
“I will ride out, take a few men with me. We’ll go get Baelish and bring him back here.”  
“You want me to stay behind?” she asked, her eyebrows coming together.  
“You and I will take care of Baelish together; you have my word. But I want to go get him.”  
Sansa didn’t like it, but she agreed. She pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his neck.  
“Come back soon, my love.”  
He threaded his fingers into her hair, brought her close and then sank his teeth into her neck. She moaned and squirmed beneath him.  
“I will return in no time, my Queen.” He broke away from her and turned towards the dungeon.  
“Ramsay…”  
He looked back; an eyebrow raised. “Yes?”  
She looked at him a moment longer. “I love you.”  
He was taken aback, his mouth falling open and hanging there for a moment. He returned to her side, brought his face close to hers, his eyes searching.  
“Are you sure?” he asked cocking his head to the side.  
“I’m sure.”  
“Even though I’m…even though I…do things like this?”  
“He tried to kill you first.”  
Ramsay laughed. “He did indeed.”  
“How do you feel? About me?”  
He touched her braid, his eyes never leaving hers. “I can’t believe you are mine. I can’t believe I have the duty, the responsibility of protecting you, a job so many others have failed miserably at.”  
She wondered if he couldn’t say it, she wondered if it had ever been said to him before. “I will never stop telling you how I feel about you, Ramsay Bolton. From this day, until my last day, I will always tell you I love you before you leave and when you return.”  
“So persistent,” he said moving close to her once more.  
“You should know,” Sansa replied not missing a beat. “Return to me soon. I love you.”  
He leaned in and kissed her, gently, delicately. His fingers holding her chin and then he smiled, turned on his heel and went back into the dungeons.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events come full circle.

~8~

Ramsay and his men rode out just as Jon and the others returned, their faces glum.  
“Welcome back,” Sansa said walking over to her half-brother. “How did it go?”  
“Most of them just laughed in our faces,” Tormund replied.  
Sansa led them inside to get warm and have some food. Jon seemed be at a loss before his journey had really even began.   
“We just need to branch out,” Davos said. “This concerns all of the living. We will have to ask everyone.”  
“Everyone?” Sansa asked.  
“Everyone with an army,” Davos replied. “All the smaller houses between here and Dorne.”  
“That’s…that’s…” Jon said shaking his head.   
“A lot,” Sansa said taking his hand across the table. “But we need as many people as we can get, right?”  
Jon nodded though the weight of the impossible task showed on his face.   
“Your rooms are ready for you,” Sansa said standing. “Let me know if you need anything or if there is anything I can do to help.”  
They thanked her and then she left the room, she went to stand on the wall overlooking the gate. It was where she went to think, snow swirled around her, her breath came out in puffs.   
“Your Grace,” the Maester said with a bow as he handed over a letter. “This just arrived…from a white raven.”  
“Thank you,” she replied as he bowed and then walked away. Sansa opened the letter, reading over the words.  
She found Jon still in the great hall, he was the only one there now. A drink in hand as he faced the flames in the great hearth, concentration lining his face, looking so like Father.  
She sat next to him. “A Raven came from the Citadel, a white Raven. Winter is here.”  
Jon’s smile spread slowly over his face. “Well Father always promised, didn’t he?”  
Sansa returned the smile and then handed over the letter. He read it and then looked up at her.  
“Sam, I knew he’d come through…”

The letter contained knowledge on dragonglass. In addition to creating an army to fight the dead, they needed to find out where dragonglass was. It needed to be mined and turned into weapons that everyone needed to learn how to use.   
Over the next few days Houses from all over the North began arriving, Jon ordered every man, woman, boy, and girl would need to train. Sansa stood on the wall every day, waiting for Ramsay to return…how long should this have taken? She felt antsy without him. Like she was crawling out of her skin. She busied herself with her Queen of the North duties, but her mind kept going back to him and wondering when he would come home.  
********

“A Raven, from King’s Landing, Your Grace,” the Maester said with a bow as he presented a rolled scroll to Sansa a few days later.  
She took the scroll and opened it up.   
“What is it?” Jon asked.  
“’Tommen of House Baratheon, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms’,” Sansa read with a sigh. “’Come to King’s Landing, bend the knee or suffer the fate of all traitors.’ We’ve been so consumed with the enemy to the North, we’ve forgotten about the one to the South.”  
“I’m consumed with The Night King because I’ve seen him,” Jon replied. “And believe me, you’d think of little else if you had, too.”  
“We still have a wall between us and the Night King. There’s nothing between us and Cersei.”  
“There’s a thousand miles between us and Cersei,” Jon countered. “Winter is here. The Lannister’s are a Southern army. They never range this far north.”  
“You’re the military man, but I know her. If you’re her enemy, she’ll never stop until she’s destroyed you. Everyone who’s ever crossed her she’s found a way to murder.”  
“You almost sound as if you admire her.”  
“I learned a great deal from her,” Sansa said looking out at the vast white beyond, a smile spreading over her face when her eyes fell on the riders coming this way.   
Sansa very calmly made her way down to the dungeons. The men Ramsay took with him parted for her when she entered. She walked past them and into the room where he was.   
Baelish was with him, though currently unconscious. Ramsay ordered him to be strung up and then he crossed the room, going right to her.   
She wrapped herself around him. “I thought you would have been back sooner, my love.”  
“We ran into some trouble, my Queen or we would have been.”  
“What trouble?” she asked, running her hand through his hair.   
“I will tell you all about my adventures,” he said pulling back, his eyes sweeping over hers.  
There was something there, something, Sansa thought as she looked at him. He looked away turning to the men, giving them instructions and then he and Sansa were leaving the dungeons.   
Sansa waited patiently while he ate and drank and warmed himself by the fire. He took her hand and they walked to their room together.   
A servant stood and bowed at them as they entered the room, she finished her duties and then left. The tub stood in the middle of the room, steaming water only inches from the top.  
Ramsay walked up behind Sansa, snaking his hands around her, pressing his lips to her neck. He began to undress her, letting her clothing fall to the floor. Once naked she turned and faced him, he took off his own clothes, her eyes falling on the new bruises on his torso. She reached out and brushed her fingers over one of them. He hissed and she looked into his eyes, pulling her hand away instantly. He brought her hand up, kissing it before taking it in tenderly in his and leading her to the tub, helping her in. She sat and then he stepped in as well, sitting on the other side, facing her.   
“Baelish had hired several men to protect him while he was staying at that inn. They were the delay.”  
“They hurt you,” she said eyeing the bruises again.  
“They got in a few hits, but I think mine will last longer,” he said, his wicked smile lighting up his face. He suddenly fell silent, his eyes lingering on her. He reached out, taking her hand again, running his thumb over her knuckles. “Sansa…I…”  
He was struggling, she could see it. She closed the space between them, her lips meeting his. She sat on top of him, running her wet hands into his hair. His hands went to her hips, holding her there. His lips parted, her tongue slipped inside, she kissed him hungrily.  
She pulled back and he took in the sight of her, pale skin, red hair, fading bite marks…she was the most magnificent creature. He ran his fingers up her arm, to her shoulder, her neck, and then to the back of her head. He pulled her closer, his eyes on hers.  
“I love you too,” he whispered faintly.   
Sansa smiled, lighting up her whole face and then she laughed, a sound Ramsay loved to hear but would never tell her. She crashed her lips into his and pulled him close, they kissed again and again.

Once his Queen was fully satisfied and asleep, Ramsay left the room silently. He slithered down to the dungeons and into the desired cell, pulling up a chair, and sitting. Baelish was still passed out, but he didn’t need to be awake to satisfy Ramsay. He smiled as he thought of all the ways he was going to torture this one and how long he could make it last. That was the most important thing to Ramsay, length. His smile deepened, thinking about Reek and how much fun it was to create him. Perhaps it was time to make another…

Sansa and Ramsay had been at it for a few hours, Baelish was a bloody mess.  
“Sansa…this…isn’t you…”   
“You have no idea who I am,” Sansa hissed.  
“I can give you…”  
“There is nothing you can give me,” Sansa said cutting him off. “Unless…”  
“Unless, my Queen?” Ramsay asked, his eyes falling to her.  
“The only thing I want from you is to confess to your crimes against my family.”  
“And then what? You’ll let me go?” Baelish asked as blood oozed from his mouth, one of his eyes had completely swollen shut.   
“Perhaps,” Sansa said with a shrug. She took a knife from the table and walked up to him. “Perhaps we’ll keep you here…but you’ll never know unless you give me what I want.”

Baelish was stubborn and he could surprisingly take more pain than Sansa expected.  
“There has to be a way of making him talk,” Sansa said shaking her head as they ate in their room.  
“Maybe you should walk in next time completely naked.”  
“Really?” Sansa asked with a laugh.  
Ramsay shrugged. “We know he’s in love with you…”  
Sansa was quiet for a bit, thinking things over. Ramsay watched her face; he saw the contemplation and eventual resolve.  
“I have an idea.”

Ramsay ordered the guard around in Baelish’s cell.  
“What are you doing?” Baelish asked taking in the new additions to the room.  
Ramsay laughed but didn’t answer him. A table was brought in and placed in front of where Baelish was. Intricate items were brought in and placed on another table close by. Then the chains were brought it. Ramsay walked out of the cell and dismissed the guards.  
“We’ll have to play this perfectly,” he said to Sansa who was waiting for her turn in this plan.  
“I’m ready. I know I’ll be safe with you.”  
He stepped closer and touched her cheek, letting his finger slide slowly to her chin. “Take off your clothes, my Queen.”  
Sansa smiled and layer after layer was removed as Ramsay took out the braid in her hair. The chilled air brushed against Sansa’s body, hardening her nipples and making her shiver. Ramsay smiled as his body responded to hers.   
“We’ll have to make it look real,” Sansa said. “Hit me.”  
“Sansa…”   
“You know how much pain I can take. This is our only chance, my love.”  
He touched her jaw and brought his lips to hers, kissing her gently, his fingers trailing through her hair. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.  
She did and then he slapped her, hard in the face. Her lip slit open; blood pooled out. She touched the wound and he went to move in once more.  
“Its okay,” she said placing a hand on his chest. “I’m okay.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes,” she replied firmly. “Lets get this over with.”  
He grabbed a handful of her hair. “Scream for me.”  
She did and then he threw her into the room, she cried out, hitting the floor. Baelish was awake, his good eye on her instantly. Ramsay strolled into the room and picked Sansa up by her hair.  
“Please…please…” Sansa whimpered.  
“What is the meaning of this!” Baelish asked raising his voice, fighting against his restraints.  
“I need to know what you know Littlefinger,” Ramsay said forcing Sansa down to the table. “And if you don’t tell me, you will be responsible for what happens to sweet Sansa next.”  
“You’re bluffing…” Baelish responded sounding taken aback.  
“He doesn’t believe me,” Ramsay said aloud, his hand finding Sansa’s hair, pulling her face up to look at Baelish. “That’s too bad for you.”  
Ramsay secured Sansa’s wrists and then the biting began. Ramsay didn’t bite her any harder than normal, but Sansa was excellent, crying out with each one. Ramsay turned and grabbed a whip, he cracked it over her ass, turning it bright red. She had tears in her eyes now, really selling that she was in pain.  
“This is only going to get worse,” Ramsay said cracking the whip again and again, causing a thin line of blood to appear. “You have the power to stop it.”  
Baelish didn’t speak and so Ramsay took off his clothes, grabbed a handful of Sansa’s hair, forcing her head back uncomfortably as he entered her. She really had to work at making her cries sound as if she were in pain. Other than the complete bliss she was feeling.  
“Anything to say Littlefinger?”  
He was silent, Ramsay rolled one of Sansa’s nipples hard between his fingers, letting her know that it wasn’t working, and they were going to have to step things up.  
“Alright,” Ramsay said pulling out and moving away. He opened the door and spoke to the men there. Then all four of them walked in, they worked together and turned the table, so Sansa and Baelish would be face to face. The men undressed.  
“What are you doing?” Baelish asked horrified as he looked at all the men in the room and then his eyes slid over to Sansa.  
“You can stop it…” Sansa said faintly. “Stop this!”  
Baelish was silent once again, his mouth hanging open as he watched several men on Sansa at once, she cried out, as the men filled her, tears sprung to her eyes. She was extremely wet and pooling onto the table beneath her. She really had to think about her face and try her best at faking pain.   
Soon the tears flowed, she was honestly getting a bit sore, her cries sounding more like the real thing with each thrust.   
Her eyes locked suddenly with Littlefinger’s, her whole body was being thrusted forward, her wrists bound, her breasts tucked under her but still pushed up. Tears streamed down her face as she was close to releasing.   
“Please Lord Baelish…please help me…”  
“I’ll tell you!” Baelish yelled. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know!”  
“Well that was all we wanted,” Ramsay said clapping his hands and the guards left the room. “You will not like it if I have to bring them back in here.” Ramsay spoke close to Sansa, but he was looking at Baelish.  
“I’m guilty…I did everything in my power to get myself on the Iron Throne and that includes betraying a lot of people! Somewhere along the way what I wanted became blurred or rather…who I wanted share it with…I had always loved Cat but she never loved me…Ned Stark was so trusting even though I told him not to be…” Baelish’s eyes were closed and he began to sob.  
“Did you play a role in Ned Stark’s execution?” Ramsay asked.  
Baelish nodded; his eyes still closed. “I thought if I could get Ned out of the way…Cat would be mine!”  
“But she rejected you,” Ramsay pressed. “And you settled for her sister.”  
“Lysa,” Baelish hissed. “She nearly ruined everything!”  
“And that’s why you killed her.”  
“She wasn’t going to stop! I had come too far to give it all up! And…there was another…”  
“Sansa,” Ramsay said as chills erupted across her body, she loved the way he said her name.  
“She was exquisite and I…fell in love with her. I wanted her by side when I took the throne.”  
Ramsay laughed which caused Baelish to open his good eye. He saw as Ramsay unlocked Sansa’s restraints. Pulled her close, wrapped her in a cloak, and wiped the blood from her mouth.  
“I didn’t hurt you too much did I?” he asked.  
Sansa smiled. “You didn’t hurt me at all, my love.”  
Baelish looked between the two of them. “You played me!” he yelled.  
“That is the least of your worries Lord Baelish,” Sansa replied. “For the crimes against my family, conspiracy to murder, and your betrayal to the Kingdoms, I Sansa Bolton, Lady of Winterfell and Queen in the North sentences you to die.”  
“Sansa…please…” Baelish pleaded, his lower lip quivering.  
Sansa wrapped her arms around Ramsay as he picked her up from the table and then placed her on the ground. She looked at the items taken from Baelish and placed on a table; she saw one item in particular. “You told my mother that this dagger belonged to Tyrion Lannister…but it was yours…you really are the reason for all of it. Aren’t you?”  
“I just…I just wanted to play the game…”  
“You did, and in the Game of Thrones you either win or you die…He’s all yours, my love. Have fun.”  
Ramsay smiled and pulled her close, kissing her deeply as his eyes found Baelish’s. “Oh, I will.”  
“Sansa! Wait! You can’t do this! You can’t leave me here! With him! Sansa!”  
Sansa left the dungeons feeling a sense of completion. After all this time she had finally gotten revenge for her family. No one ever thought Sansa would amount to anything, being such a naïve child. But now she was all grown up, she was Queen in the North, and no one would ever harm her family again.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Raven from Dragonstone changes everything.

~9~

Sansa looked at her face in the glass the next morning. It was bruised, it looked awful. She dressed and decided to wear her hair down today. She pulled on her boots and grabbed her gloves as the door to the room opened.  
She locked eyes with Ramsay, and he closed the space between them.  
“Does it hurt?” he asked, his hands on either side of her face as he inspected her lip.  
“A little.”  
His eyes softened and he shook his head. “My Queen…”  
“You have nothing to apologize for, my love. It had to be done. I’m sure if you bite me a few times, I’ll forget all about it,” she said raising an eyebrow.  
“Is that a challenge darling?”  
Sansa smiled at him and he leaned in, pulling her collar aside. He kissed her neck and then sunk his teeth in. She squirmed under him but held onto the back of head, pulling him closer. He ran his tongue over the wound once he was finished and then he kissed his Queen lightly on the lips.  
“What of the prisoner?” she asked.  
“He’s still a prisoner.”  
“You haven’t killed him yet?”  
“I will my Queen. You have nothing to worry about.”  
Sansa and Ramsay left their room and began their usual walkabout of Winterfell, walking the same routes Ned used to walk as he watched over everything and everyone.  
Maester Wolkan approached and handed a scroll to Sansa. She read it and looked at Ramsay. They walked swiftly around Winterfell until they spotted Ygritte’s red hair and then they saw Jon close by. Sansa walked up to him.  
“Sansa, what happened to your face?” he asked as he reached for her and then he turned his attention to Ramsay, his eyes growing dark.  
Sansa stepped between them. “It’s nothing.”  
“Its not nothing,” he said getting angry. “Did he…”  
“No!” Sansa replied, coming quickly to Ramsay’s defense.   
“It was in fact another man that hit her,” Ramsay spoke up nonchalantly as he enveloped Sansa in his arms.  
“Who?” Jon demanded.  
Ramsay smiled at him. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my wife, Jon Snow.”  
“Who did it?” Jon asked louder.  
“It has been taken care of,” Ramsay said as his eyes remained on Jon’s.  
Jon didn’t like it, but he seemed satisfied with their explanation. Sansa handed him the scroll and waited while he read it. Davos walked over, waiting to hear the news.  
“You think its really Tyrion?” Sansa asked as she took the letter back to read it again, but Ramsay snatched it from her. “It could be someone trying to lure us into a trap.”  
“Read the last bit,” Jon replied.  
“’All dwarves are bastards in the father’s eyes’,” Ramsay read aloud.  
“What does that mean?” Sansa asked.  
“It’s something he said to me the first night we met. You know him better than any of us. What do you think?”  
Jon, Davos, Ygritte, and Ramsay looked to Sansa, waiting.  
“Tyrion’s not like the other Lannister’s,” Sansa said after a moment. “He was always kind to me. But its too great a risk.” She snatched the letter out of Ramsay’s hands, and he smirked at her.   
“’The Seven Kingdoms will bleed as long as Cersei sits on the Iron Throne. Join us. Together we can end her tyranny.’” She read aloud.  
Davos reached out for the letter next and Sansa handed it over. “Sounds like a charmer. Of course, the casual mention of a Dothraki horde, a legion of Unsullied, and three dragons, a bit less charming,” he said abruptly stopping his sentence.  
“What?” Jon asked.  
“Fire kills wights, you told me. What breaths fire?”   
Jon looked away but he was already thinking about it.   
“You’re not suggesting Jon meet with her?” Sansa asked.  
“No,” Davos replied. “Too dangerous.”  
“But?” Jon prompt.  
“But if the Army of the Dead makes it past the Wall, do we have enough men to fight them?”  
“She wants us to bend the knee,” Sansa said after a moment.   
“Would that really be so bad?” Davos asked.  
“Yes!” Sansa hissed. “We fought too long to get here; the North is mine.”  
“Ours,” Ramsay interrupted.  
“And we will not bow for anyone.”  
“We are talking about the fate of all the living,” Davos said. “That is more important than who rules which Kingdom.”  
“I will not go,” Sansa said.  
Jon looked at her for a long moment and then he took the scroll and walked away with Davos and Ygritte following him.

“Do you think it could be true?” Sansa asked. “Three dragons?”  
“No one thought White Walkers were still around,” Ramsay pointed out.   
Sansa’s brow furrowed. “Jon’s going to do whatever Jon wants.”  
“You’re the Queen. Tell him he can’t go.”  
“Just tell him?”  
“Just like that.”  
Sansa’s brow furrowed and Ramsay moved over to her. “What is it?”  
“I can’t tell him he can’t go. Ser Davos is right…this concerns everyone. How can I be a good Queen if we turn our backs on our people?”  
******

Ramsay was in the dungeon, again. He learned pretty quickly Baelish was a talker. Always trying to wiggle out of every situation. So, several days ago, Ramsay decided to remedy the situation by cutting out his tongue. Now, all Baelish did was make noises at him while Ramsay did what Ramsay does best.   
He wouldn’t be able to keep his new pet much longer, he told Sansa he would take care of it and he would. But first…he wanted to play.  
*****

Sansa, Ramsay, Jon, Ygritte, Davos, Brienne, and Podrick gathered to discuss what to do.   
“Things have changed,” Jon said holding up another scroll. “Samwell found proof that Dragonstone is sitting on a mountain of dragonglass. Now I have to go.”  
“Have you forgotten what happened to our grandfather? The Mad King invited him to King’s Landing and then roasted him alive.”  
“I know that,” Jon replied.  
“Daenerys is here to reclaim the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms. The North is one of those seven kingdoms. This isn’t an invitation, it’s a trap!”  
“It could be,” Jon replied. “But I don’t believe Tyrion would do that. You know him. He’s a good man. I know it’s a risk. But I have to take it. The lives of every living person depend on us defeating the Night King.”  
Sansa looked away, she didn’t want Jon to leave, didn’t want him to get himself killed. But as a Queen, all the lives in the North were her responsibility and that weighed on her.   
“Send and emissary,” she said looking back at Jon. “Don’t go yourself.”  
“I am the emissary,” he said quietly. “For you.”  
“Don’t do this for me,” she replied as her heart dropped.  
“I’m doing it for everyone. If we hope to survive, we need her help.”

Everyone was gathered in the Great room, fires burning in the hearth, candles lit. Everyone looking expectantly at Jon as he stood before them.   
“This message was sent to my by Samwell Tarly. He was brother at the Night’s Watch, a man I trust as much as anyone in this world. He’s discovered proof that Dragonstone sits on a mountain of dragonglass.”  
Murmuring echoed throughout the room.   
“We received this a few days ago, from Dragonstone,” Sansa said speaking loudly for everyone to hear as she held up another scroll from where she and Ramsay sat behind the long table. “It was sent to us by Tyrion Lannister.” The murmuring grew louder. “He is now Hand of the Queen to Daenerys Targaryen. She intends to take the Iron Throne from Cersei Lannister. She has a powerful army at her back, and if this message is to be believed, three dragons.” The murmurs were growing angry. “Lord Tyrion has invited Jon and I to Dragonstone, to meet with Daenerys. I won’t be going…but Jon will.”  
People were on their feet as their anger rose.  
“We need this dragonglass, my Lords,” Jon said trying to calm the room. We know that dragonglass can destroy both White Walkers and their army. We need to mine it and turn it into weapons. But more importantly, we need allies. The Night King’s army grows larger by the day. We can’t defeat them on our own. We don’t have the numbers. Daenerys has her own army, and she has dragonfire. I need to try and persuade her to fight with us. Ser Davos, Ygritte, and I will ride for White Harbor tomorrow, then sail for Dragonstone. The North is my home. It’s part of me and I will never stop fighting for it, no matter the odds. But the odds are against us. None of you have seen the Army of the Dead. None of you. We can never hope to defeat them alone. We need allies, powerful allies.”

Sansa held on tight as she hugged Jon. “Be safe and come back as soon as you can.”  
He smiled and then kissed her forehead. “You’ll be okay here?”  
“Of course, we will,” Ramsay said pulling Sansa into him.  
Jon nodded and then climbed up on his horse. Sansa went to Ygritte and embraced her. “Keep him on his toes.”  
“I always do,” she said with a grin.   
“Don’t trust her,” Sansa added, hoping with Ygritte there, they have more of chance of returning home.  
Ygritte nodded, her red hair glinting in the pale sunlight. She, Davos and a handful of soldiers mounted their horses and then rode through the gate of Winterfell.  
“Every time a member of my family rides away…I wonder if I will ever see them again.”  
Ramsay kissed her temple. “Come my Queen, there is lots to prepare for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have made an oopsie in The Wolf and the Hound, that trickled into this story, in the form of Podrick and Brienne. They were sent to the Blackfish and that is where they found Catelyn in hiding all this time, and from there I had them go to King's Landing. But there is actually ALL THIS TIME that passes before that happens. So, technically that is where Brienne and Podrick are but I also needed them back in Winterfell, so that is how it is written. Oopsie Daisies! ^_^  
> (This really doesn't effect the story, I just wanted to let you know, I know, I made the mistake.)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Feedback is always appreciated!


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa is reunited with someone she thought she would never see again.

~10~

“How much do we have?” Sansa asked.  
“Four thousand bushels, my Queen,” answered Lord Mazin.  
“And what does that mean?” Sansa asked turning to look at him and Maester Wolkan.   
“For the current occupants of the castle, its enough food for a year, perhaps more.”  
“And what’s the longest winter in the past one hundred years?” Sansa asked as she began to walk.  
“Um…I’m not entirely certain, Your Grace. I’ll check Maester Luwin’s records,” Wolkan replied. “He kept a copy of every Raven scroll.”  
“You’re telling me we don’t have enough food,” Sansa said as she descended a staircase with the others on her heels. “Especially not if the armies of the North come back to defend Winterfell.”  
“No, Your Grace, most likely not,” Wolkan replied.  
“Then we must prepare for that eventuality. Whichever direction the threat comes from, this is the best place to be. We need to start building up our grain stores,” Sansa continued. “With regular shipments from every keep in the North. If we don’t use it by winter’s end, we’ll give it back to them. If the entire North has to flee to Winterfell they won’t have enough time to bring wagonloads of grain with them.”  
“Very wise, Your Grace,” Lord Mazin replied.  
“Maester Wolkan, you’ll see to it?” Sansa asked turning her blue eyes to the Maester behind her.  
He bowed and then walked away. Sansa began walking again, she paused and looked at the handiwork of those making armor.   
“Are they covering those breastplates in leather?”  
“No, Your Grace,” Lord Mazin replied.  
“Shouldn’t they be? Once the real cold comes?”  
“They should indeed. Pardon me, Your Grace,” Lord Mazin replied as he went to see to the matter.  
Sansa and Ramsay found themselves alone as they continued on. She caught a grin on his face. “What?”  
“Oh, my Queen,” he said taking her hand and backing her against the cold stone wall as they turned a corner. “This is what you were meant for.” His words were quiet, spoken softly by her ear.  
The way he said those words had heat pooling between Sansa’s legs, she enjoyed the way he looked at her, like he wanted to eat her. His hand began to work its way under her clothes. She moved her knees apart so he could slip his fingers inside. The noise he made next was somewhere between a groan and a sigh.  
“Sansa,” he said quietly in that too sweet predatory voice he had sometimes that Sansa seemed to enjoy. “Command makes you so wet,” he said each word slowly, carefully, as his fingers wiggled causing Sansa to grab onto him. Wanting him closer, inside her, but also worried that just anyone could walk by at any moment.  
Her eyes flicked to the doorway once more, but no one was there. Her heart quickened its pace as she undid the ties on her dress and then she opened it, exposing her pale skin to the frigid air. Ramsay went to say something, but Sansa shook her head. Ramsay caressed each breast before kneeling before his Queen.  
“My Queen,” he said, a wicked smile on his face as his ice blue eyes pierced hers. Sansa bit the side of her lip as Ramsay moved closer to her. She could feel his hot breath against her skin, and then his tongue slipped between the folds. She leaned against the wall, parting her legs further, granting him more access. Her eyes rolled back as Ramsay flicked his tongue over her most sensitive area. One of her hands rested on Ramsay’s head, her fingers tightening and releasing his hair. Ramsay began to use his nose, to wiggle around those beautiful pink parts, his tongue continued its precise pace and a moment later he added fingers to the mix. Sansa’s breathing sped up and her thighs began to jiggle. The sounds Ramsay was making seemed amplified in the hallway they stood in. Awful noises, Sansa thought, her eyes flicking to the entrance again, slurping and licking, a cry of her own escaped her mouth and Ramsay took that as encouragement. Suddenly Sansa can’t restrain herself anymore as her cries come pouring out of her in a beautiful symphony of pleasure. Ramsay lapped at her juices, his tongue going back again and again for more. He suddenly hit the perfect spot, waves crashed against Sansa, threatening to knock her from her feet. She held onto Ramsay’s shoulders to keep from falling. The waves die down and her breathing subsided as Ramsay stood, wiping his face, and then he pulled her dress closed, retying the ties. He leaned in for a quick kiss and then the two began walking once more, as if nothing had happened.   
Once they made it back outside a soldier ran up to them. “Your Grace, at the gate!” he said alarmed.  
Sansa looked at Ramsay for a moment and then they followed the soldier around to the gate. A small crowd had gathered there and that’s when Sansa saw him. Her eyes falling on deep brown eyes she never thought she’d see again.  
Bran was older, his hair shorter. He sat covered in furs, no expression on his face as he looked back at his sister. She felt tears on her cheeks.  
“Hello Sansa,” he said, his voice, that of a man’s now.  
Sansa broke from her shock and embraced him fiercely, sobbing into his shoulder. Ramsay stood back, keeping an eye on the kid. He thought it most curious that his face remained unchanged, there was no emotion there and Ramsay couldn’t figure out why. Rickon ran out with Shaggy Dog and Osha on his heels.  
“Bran!” he yelled excitedly as he hugged his brother. “I never thought I’d see you again!”  
“Hello Rickon.”  
“Hello Little Lord,” Osha said with a smile. “We missed you.”

Sansa, Rickon, Osha, and Bran go to the Godswood to sit by the weirwood tree, with help from a few soldiers. They set Bran on a chair and make their leave.   
“I wish Jon were here,” Sansa said.  
“Yes,” Bran replied. “I need to speak to him.”  
Sansa looked at her brother for quite some time before speaking. “You’re the Lord of Winterfell.”  
“I can never be Lord of Winterfell. I can never be Lord of anything. Besides, Queen Sansa has a much better ring to it.” She smiled and looked away. “I’m the Three-Eyed Raven.”  
Osha looked uncomfortable as she perched nearby, always watching Rickon.  
“I don’t know what that means,” Sansa said turning back to look at Bran.  
Snow began to fall around them. “It’s difficult to explain,” he said.  
“Try. Please, for me?” Sansa asked from where she sat on the ground, by the little pool where Father used to sit.   
“It means I can see everything. Everything that’s ever happened, to everyone. Everything that’s happening right now. It’s all pieces now, fragments. I need to learn to see better. When the Long Night comes again, I need to be ready.”  
“How do you know all this?” Osha asked.  
“The Three-Eyed Raven taught me,” he replied.  
“I thought you were the Three-Eyed Raven?” Rickon asked.  
“I told you, it’s difficult to explain.”  
Sansa sighed. “Bran…” she said shaking her head.  
“I’m sorry for all that’s happened to you.” Sansa and Bran shared a look. “It was so beautiful that night,” he said looking away. “Snow falling, just like now. And you were so beautiful in your white wedding dress.”  
Sansa stood suddenly. “I have to back inside, Bran.”  
“I’ll stay a bit longer. And Sansa?”  
“Yes?”  
“The dagger you acquired from Littlefinger…I need it.”  
Sansa looked at Bran for several moments...if he knew about the wedding and Baelish…he knew everything that she and Ramsay had done.  
“Of course,” she replied and then she turned on her heel, her cloak sweeping around in the snow, and she left the Godswood.


End file.
